


Wait for Me

by hongbab



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Light Angst, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, but actually pretty innocent, it's not nasty but it's complicated okay, not the innocent kind of teacher-student relationship you're thinking of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongbab/pseuds/hongbab
Summary: He was selfish, he knew that much. He watched Hakyeon wilt by his side, his liveliness decreasing with each week they spent together, but he couldn’t let go of him, not when Hakyeon was the best thing in his life, not when he wanted to do this whole Life Thing together with Hakyeon.





	Wait for Me

**Author's Note:**

> recommended songs: your favourite sad but lovey-dovey songs

Even though the old, rusty air conditioner was whirring steadily overhead, the air inside the office was unbearably hot. Wonshik felt tiny beads of sweat trickle down his temples to get lost in his hair as he was lying on the sofa, legs and head propped up on the two armrests.

“Can we just go home?” he moaned, blindly stretching out his arm to the right.

A warm and dry hand wrapped around his fingers, squeezing them lightly.

“You can go home, if you want, I told you,” Hakyeon murmured.

He pulled back his hand and Wonshik let his own drop to the floor, opening his eyes to blearily blink at Hakyeon. He had been correcting the Music Theory exam papers of his second year students for over two hours and Wonshik had already scrolled down several months’ worth of posts both on his FaceBook and Twitter feeds, deciding to take a nap instead—if only he’d been able to sleep while burning in the hellfire of the early July weather.

“I want you to come home with me,” Wonshik mumbled. “You haven’t come over in five days.”

Hakyeon let out a sigh. “That’s because I’ve been making exam papers.”

“So you should relax already.”

“Wonshik-ah,” Hakyeon said, finally looking at Wonshik. He looked exhausted; there were dark shadows under his eyes, his lovely skin looked sickly pale, and the 11’s between his eyebrows looked deeper than usual. “Please, let me correct these and I’ll go home with you, I promise, I just—”

Hakyeon's words got cut off by the rattling of the doorknob and Wonshik immediately jumped from the sofa, scrambling on the floor to crawl over to Hakyeon's desk, pushing his chair away to hide. Hakyeon yelped, but then the door opened and he quickly rolled his chair back behind the desk, almost running over Wonshik's fingers.

“You can come out of there, Wonshik,” a tired voice said, “it’s just me.”

“It’s Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon announced, gently nudging Wonshik's bottom with his foot.

Wonshik let out the breath he had been holding, supporting himself on Hakyeon's desktop as he stood up, facing Sanghyuk, Hakyeon's TA.

“I could see your shoes anyway,” Sanghyuk said, dropping his bag on his desk. “I was just hoping you guys weren’t… you know.”

“What the hell, we—”

“Oh my God, I told you we—”

"I know, I know," Sanghyuk swatted away their excuses like a couple of annoying flies, "No sex until he's 18 or something."

"I'm 24," Wonshik grumbled. "And you're younger than me, so stop being condescending."

"I'm still a TA and I can still tell the dean about your little... romance."

"You're _my_ TA," Hakyeon said authoritatively and for some reason, Wonshik's heart skipped a beat at the commanding tone with which Hakyeon was trying to save both of their dignity. "I can tell the dean about your unhelpfulness."

"I'm helpful!" Sanghyuk exclaimed. "I'm helpful and you know that and it’s still very bizarre that you guys, like, hook up and stuff."

"We don't—" Wonshik started, but then Hakyeon took his hand momentarily, nonverbally telling him to let Sanghyuk think whatever he wants.

It was irritating, how Sanghyuk thought their relationship was based on some sort of sick teacher-student kink, just like how most of their close friends thought the same. It was nothing like that and Wonshik once had been desperate to make Sanghyuk understand it; he had tried to explain it for several months after Sanghyuk had caught them cuddling in Hakyeon's office, but Sanghyuk never listened. No one ever listened and while Wonshik was extremely stressed about it, Hakyeon seemingly accepted that people would never believe them.

Seemingly.

But it was Wonshik who rubbed Hakyeon's back when he seemed too troubled by the weight of this all, he was the one who offered to make Hakyeon some tea when he was bursting with suppressed misery, and Wonshik was the one who held Hakyeon through the crying when he wanted to give up on the two of them but felt too attached to Wonshik to do so.

They had talked about it more than Wonshik dared to count, about breaking up, about stopping the torturing of each other and finally being able to take a deep breath without being afraid of anybody kicking them out of the university, Wonshik losing his student status and Hakyeon, his job as a professor, and, on top of it, being condemned by society. 'It's not like... there's much between you two, right? I mean, you haven't even kissed or anything,' Jaehwan had told Wonshik once, chuckling awkwardly afterwards, slowly screwing the imaginary knife already in Wonshik's heart further in. 

There were nights when Wonshik wanted nothing more than to kiss Hakyeon, he wanted it more than he wanted to breathe, needed it like plants need water to stay alive. But Hakyeon was stronger, he never let Wonshik kiss him, 'not until you graduate', he said, and Wonshik always felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes when Hakyeon rejected his attempts. They had a bond no one should ever have questioned, and Wonshik clearly knew it was love, no matter how Hakyeon never let him say it out loud—he was protecting both of them, from breaching this stupid convention, this make-believe rule they had set up, the one that said their relationship was only real crime if their lips touched. Wonshik didn't want the two of them to be a crime.

He thought about this as he sat on the couch in his living room that evening, Hakyeon resting his head on Wonshik's shoulder, snuffling quietly in his sleep, his hair silky but slightly tangled under Wonshik's fingers as he caressed it. He wished he could have kissed Hakyeon on the forehead, but that was forbidden, too, at least on Hakyeon's part, and he would have woken up and freaked out if Wonshik did that. So Wonshik only tipped his head to the side, the top of Hakyeon's head touching his cheek. 

He was so happy but so incredibly, so inconceivably sad, and all that managed to keep him from screaming from the top of his lungs was the small red circle around the number 17 on the July page of the ugly wall calendar he had hammered up in his living room. Three more weeks and he wouldn't be a student anymore. Three more weeks and he would be able to kiss Hakyeon, to hold him in his arms and press his mouth to his temple and hear him laugh in the most carefree way he had ever done. It would ring through the room and Wonshik's heart and he would be the happiest man on earth. Three weeks.

 

 

The day they first met was a lazy Wednesday, one littered with classes with too long breaks between them, and that was why Wonshik hated Wednesdays the most—the temptation to go home between classes and never return to campus was extremely strong.

He stood in line in front of the counter of the coffee shop opposite campus, pulling one of his hands out of his jeans’ pocket to rub at his eyes, trying not to fall asleep while standing.

He was halfway through a yawn when the wind of a storm ruffled his hair, loud steps making him regain consciousness as someone rushed past him, pushing away the guy next in line to bend over the counter, panting wildly.

“Hey,” the boy heaved at the barista in front of him, the strap of his messenger bag slipping off his shoulder, “do you know where… where the entrance to the main building is… at that university?”

The barista, a blond girl, blushed to the roots of her hair and mumbled something unintelligible, the boy looking more and more desperate by the second. Someone tried to explain to him how he was supposed to take the path on the right of the entrance, turn to the left, go up the stairs, look for the second door, enter it, and then walk up another flight of stairs to find the reception hall, but the guy only made a wailing noise, his otherwise tan face suddenly turning grey.

“I can help you,” Wonshik said without thinking twice, surprised by his own eagerness to help. He was probably just bored. “I study there.”

“Would you?” the boy asked, stepping away from the counter, looking like he might hug Wonshik and cry on his shoulder. “Oh my God, thank you, I need to get there in five minutes, I have a job interview at half past one, you see…”

“Okay, uh,” Wonshik nodded, glancing sadly at the coffee machine behind the counter. “Let’s go.”

The guy stormed out of the coffee shop the way he entered, waiting for Wonshik to catch up outside. He seemed extremely nervous with his eyebrows knit and his lips tightly pressed together, but Wonshik still thought he looked kind of cute, especially because of his jitteriness—Wonshik felt himself blush and had to bite his lower lip to hide a smile.

“Are you applying to be a teacher or something?” Wonshik asked as they crossed the road with fast steps.

“Yeah,” the guy said with a finger in his mouth, chewing on his skin. “I heard they’re looking for a Music Theory teacher and I just finished my Music Master’s a year ago, so I thought I’d try.”

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” Wonshik replied with an encouraging smile, and suddenly he was walking alone in the grass. When he looked back, the guy was standing a few feet away, looking utterly baffled. “What’s that?” Wonshik inquired.

“You don’t even know me,” Mr. Soon-To-Be-Prof mumbled. “How can you be sure I’ll do well?”

Wonshik blinked.

“I just… this is just… well,” Wonshik scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I can imagine you in front of a whiteboard and all, so I just… look, we’re going to be late.”

“Ah,” the boy nodded, light pink dusting the tops of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his shoes, shiny dark hair hanging in front of his forehead, his eyelashes like tiny fans spreading above his waterlines. Wonshik's heart skipped a beat and his legs suddenly felt like jelly, his palms becoming clammy as the boy looked up with a gentle smile. “Right, let’s go.”

They took a shortcut through a bunch of bushes, stopping in front of the door to the main building, Wonshik holding it open.

“How do I look?” the teacher candidate asked, brushing his fingers lightly over his bangs.

Lovely, Wonshik thought but caught himself before he could have said it out loud, swallowing thickly.

“You look like our new Music Theory prof,” he said, grinning, for which he earned a radiant smile, one that made his stomach turn into knots. “But, before you go inside,” Wonshik took his phone from his pocket, checking the time. It was 1.28pm. “Can I ask your name?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, Cha Hakyeon,” he said, reaching out to shake Wonshik's hand. “Sorry, I’m kind of nervous right now.”

“Didn’t even notice,” Wonshik smirked, tightening his fingers around Hakyeon's hand. “Kim Wonshik, by the way. I’m graduating this semester, so we probably won’t meet in class, but… I hope I’ll get to see you around.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for taking your time,” Hakyeon replied, entering the building. “I’ll buy you coffee if I get the job.” Hakyeon smiled again and Wonshik was positively swaying in the doorway now, grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed, then.”

Hakyeon turned away with a small, breathy laugh, jogging towards the small booth in the reception hall, and Wonshik let go of the door, skipping back all the way to the parking lot where he stopped to remember which building his next class would be held in.

Hakyeon got accepted and he bought Wonshik a caramel macchiato, sipping it together with him in a faraway corner of the coffee shop, talking animatedly about his interview. Wonshik watched him in awe with his chin held in his palm, smiling when Hakyeon got carried away so much he could barely breathe between sentences. He was beautiful and lively and funny and Wonshik felt so smitten after their third coffee date he thought he might die if he didn't ask Hakyeon out for dinner.

It was a long process from then on: Wonshik obviously didn’t care about getting kicked out of university as much as Hakyeon worried for both of them, every little touch feeling like another step towards their mutual death sentence. The first time Wonshik held Hakyeon's hand in the darkness of the near empty cinema auditorium sent shivers down Hakyeon's body, making him tremble with nervousness till the end of the awful action film they were watching.

"I want to kiss you," Wonshik blurted out once, three beers into the night at Hakyeon's place, their fingers intertwined on the floor.

"We can't," Hakyeon shook his head, looking down at their hands with a small pout, and when he looked back up, his eyes were shining strangely—not from the alcohol he had consumed. He scooted closer to Wonshik and rested his head on Wonshik's shoulder tentatively, flinching when Wonshik caressed his back.

"I should let you go," Hakyeon said a few hours later, when he was already sitting on the mattress of his own bed, his fingers still laced with Wonshik's. "I'm killing you."

"You're making me feel alive," Wonshik said and pulled Hakyeon down to where he was sprawled out on the bed, and Hakyeon came a little unwillingly, laying his head on Wonshik's chest so hesitatingly it felt like he was trying to make it feel less heavy. Wonshik cradled the back of his neck then, scratching under Hakyeon's hair.

He was selfish, he knew that much. He watched Hakyeon wilt by his side, his liveliness decreasing with each week they spent together, but he couldn't let go of him, not when Hakyeon was the best thing in his life, not when he wanted to do this whole Life Thing together with Hakyeon. He didn't let Hakyeon break up with him. Instead, he kept vigil with Hakyeon, mourning their unborn relationship on some nights when all he wanted to do was sleep, watched Hakyeon crumble and grow tired, tormented, broken by his side.

 

 

Wonshik couldn't pay attention to the ceremony.

He was sitting in his robe with that silly hat on, staring ahead and picturing Hakyeon's face, thinking of how his lips would taste a few hours later, how he'd have to hold back his tears when he could finally free Hakyeon from the weight of this all.

When a classmate on his right elbowed him in the side to indicate he was next, Wonshik stood up in a mechanical way, much like a robot programmed to walk to the front to take his stupid paper and shake some hands. Afterwards, he missed the moment he was supposed to throw his hat in the air, and later, he forgot to smile in the picture a random stranger took of him with his family. He couldn't hear the questions and congratulatory words aimed at him when they were already at home, drinking for his health with relatives he barely knew, and he excused himself as soon as the last guest left.

It was well after 9pm when he finally reached Hakyeon's apartment building, sticky with sweat and his heart going into overdrive. He let himself into the building and ran up the stairs, stumbling at one point but catching the railing, arriving in front of Hakyeon's front door heaving loudly, knocking weakly on the wood. His knuckles barely left the surface when the door already swung open, Hakyeon standing there in a pair of sweatpants and a crisp white button-up, his hair soft and messy like he had just blow-dried it.

"Wonshik," he said in a shaky voice, "I didn't think you'd be here so fast, I was going to dress up nicely and—"

But Wonshik was already inside the flat, holding Hakyeon's cheeks between his hands and kissing him, his lips quivering against Hakyeon's, his throat tight with unshed tears as he listened to Hakyeon's tiny, muffled sobs, his hands grabbing Wonshik's wrists and his thumbs caressing the insides of them. Hakyeon's arms then wrapped around Wonshik's shoulders and Wonshik pulled him close, holding him tight.

"I'm so proud of you," Hakyeon whispered, the lock clicking as he kicked the door shut.

Wonshik only pressed his face further into the crook of Hakyeon's neck, trying to will away the crying.

When Hakyeon pulled back to look into Wonshik's eyes, his face was decorated with delicate streaks of tears, sparkling there like microscopic gemstones and Wonshik hadn’t seen all seven billion inhabitants of the planet, but he was convinced Hakyeon was the most gorgeous of them all.

Hakyeon pulled him into his bedroom and sat him down on the mattress, climbing into his lap with still too much wariness in his moves, like he couldn't quite believe he was finally allowed to do such things. His fingers crawled under Wonshik's hair as he pressed his forehead against Wonshik's, breathing heavily.

"I love you," Wonshik said and it sounded bubbly like he had blood in his lungs. He held Hakyeon by the waist, his grip firm on his lithe body. "I love you, Hakyeon, I'm so sorry, I'm so— I'm so sorry for being selfish."

"I love you," Hakyeon replied and pecked Wonshik's lips. "I love you more than anything and I'm so happy you never let me— I'm so happy you're here."

Wonshik laughed in a high-pitched voice and let go of Hakyeon's waist to undo the buttons on his shirt, fumbling with each, but Hakyeon didn't rush him, he waited patiently until Wonshik made his way through all the buttons, occasionally kissing Hakyeon like they had all the time in the world.

He had seen Hakyeon shirtless before, when he'd spent the night and Hakyeon had forgotten to take his shirt with him to the bathroom in the morning, but he had never been able to touch him before. Hakyeon's skin was smooth and beautiful, like the finest silk, the warmth of him making Wonshik feel dizzy as he pressed his mouth against Hakyeon's collarbone. His fingertips were tingling as he dragged them over Hakyeon's abdomen, and, in turn, sparks surged under his skin as Hakyeon took Wonshik’s T-shirt off, doing the same to him—just touching, enjoying how it was possible now.

Hakyeon's skin tasted like the sweetest honey mixing with the saltiness of the ocean, and Wonshik couldn't get enough of it as he nipped lightly on Hakyeon's hip bone before he planted small kisses to Hakyeon's firm inner thighs, aching to mark every patch of skin with his mouth.

Wonshik had always loved Hakyeon's melodic voice—it was so different from his own low and deep baritone, the soft-flowing tone filling his heart every time Hakyeon hummed along to the radio or sang quietly in the kitchen while preparing breakfast. His lovely voice cracked now in the nicest way possible, his breathing picking up as Wonshik took him into his mouth, Wonshik's name spilling from his mouth in airy chants like it was a spell ought to be whispered into the night to bear results. His fingers were carding through Wonshik's hair shakily, his body twitching with every move of Wonshik's tongue. His cheeks were flushed and his lips bitten red when Wonshik finally emerged from between his legs, kissing his forehead and earning a happy smile before Hakyeon reached over to the nightstand to take the lube from it. 

His lips brushed Hakyeon's eyelids in a soothing manner when he slipped a finger in, and then two, Hakyeon mewling and squirming in his arms when Wonshik finally thrust forward, his legs almost giving in under him—it was too much and too good all at once.

"You mean the world to me," he murmured into Hakyeon's neck as Hakyeon pulled him close, two arms around Wonshik's shoulder and two strong legs around his hips, his small cries trickling down Wonshik's skin like the sweat on his back.

"I love you," he heard Hakyeon's jumbled words before he struggled to press his mouth against Wonshik's, kissing him deep while Wonshik jerked him slowly, swallowing Hakyeon's moans.

Hakyeon came with a choking sound and a desperate inhale, kissing Wonshik until Wonshik came as well, collapsing on top of Hakyeon. He wanted to cry so badly, but Hakyeon was already crying; his blunt nails were scraping Wonshik's scalp as Wonshik lay half on top of him, listening to the steady, way too fast rhythm of Hakyeon's heart.

"Thank you," Wonshik said; his voice was hoarse and his words barely decipherable from the emotions swarming inside him. "I love you, thank you for being here, for waiting for me, I love you so much, Hakyeon, I'm so sorry..." He was rambling, he knew he was, but he needed to talk, he needed to make Hakyeon understand that no man had ever been as happy to be alive as he was in that moment.

Hakyeon laughed, his laughter ringing inside Wonshik's ears and his heart the way he had imagined it would, and when he kissed Hakyeon's temple, Hakyeon only hugged him tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to talk to me about any of my stories or just vixx in general on [tumblr](http://hongbab.tumblr.com/), [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/hongbab) or [aff](http://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1061753) ♡ please support me on [ko-fi.com](https://ko-fi.com/hongbab) if you can ♡


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